Years Of Our Lives
by Four Leafed Clove
Summary: Dominique and Lysander's life over a period of 28 years.
1. October 31, 2009

**31 October 2009**

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

"Hello?" A young blond headed boy answered the door, wearing some sort of purple zip up suit.

"Trick or treat," Dominique called, her red hair fluttering in the wind. The boy frowned.  
"What are you?" He asked, confused, "I'm a wrackspurt,"  
"What am I?" Dominique laughed, "I'm a witch, of course," She pointed to the big, green, pimply stick – on nose that was dangling off her face. He giggled.

"I'm Lysander. Lysander Scamander," He smiled, reaching out to her and shaking her hand. She grinned.

"I'm Dominique. Dominique Weasley," She grinned. He laughed.

"I could tell by your red hair," He smiled.

"A lot of people can," She smiled back.

"Anyway, how much candy do you want?" Lysander asked, holding out a pumpkin full of sweets.

"Maybe a handful. Victoire, Mum and Dad all took Louis down to the less scary streets, but I don't want him to be jealous if I get more," Dominique reasoned. Lysander spooned a handful of candy into Dominique's cauldron.

"You should be a Ravenclaw if you're that smart," Lysander grinned. Dominique blushed.

"Thank you. Bye," Dominique turned to leave.

"Bye!" Lysander called after her.


	2. October 31, 2013

**31 October 2013**

Dominique rushed through the halls quickly. She wanted to get to the Halloween Feast so badly, and she was afraid that she wouldn't make it. Her red hair streamed out behind her quickly as she ran. Her seaweed costume dragged on the floor behind her. She skidded to a halt as she found herself in front of the blond Scamander.

"Lysander," She said slowly, staring at the boy's costume. He was some kind of tree, with purple fruits dangling off the branches.

"Did you get stuck with a stupid costume, too?" Lysander asked curiously. Dominique laughed humourlessly.

"Yep, I did," She nodded, "My sister, Victoire, she made this for me,"

"My mum made this," Lysander blushed, "You're sister is very nice for making you a costume,"

"Thank you," Dominique grinned, "I'll make sure I tell her that,"

"Cool," Lysander grinned, waving his arms - which were charmed to look like tree branches - up and down. Dominique laughed.

"I guess we better hurry," She advised the Gryffindor.

"We better," Lysander nodded in agreement, "Anyway, what did your sister come as?" They hurried down the hallway.

"An Angel," Dominique informed him, a tiny bit bitter.

"Great,"  
Then they were swallowed up by a fun-filled feast full of pumpkins and costumes.


	3. October 31, 2017

**31 October 2017**

"Lysander, if I've told you once I've told you a million times! I am much too old to be dressing up as a stupid mermaid!" Dominique yelled.

"Dom, I had to take _sewing _lessons to make it. _All_ summer," Lysander moaned.

"Lysander, honestly-!"

"Please, Dom. _Please_!" Lysander begged.

"Fine, but if I look like a fool, then you have to wear my bra and one of Victoire's miniskirts - with no underwear - to COMA,"

"It's COMC," Lysander corrected, "COMA sounds..."  
"Wrong," Dominique finished for him, laughing, "I know."  
"I suppose it's a deal, then," Lysander decided, putting out his hand for her to smiled and shook it,  
"Deal."

* * *

Dominique could not believe her eyes.

"Lysander! When I said not traditional, I meant..."

"I filled the criteria. You're in no position to criticize me," Lysander argued stubbornly.

"But," Dominique fingered her costume. It consisted of two red seashells which barely covered her nipples, and two strips of blue 'seaweed' that barely covered her private parts. "I'd be more covered if I walked into the Great Hall butt naked,"  
"Then it's a dare," Lysander grinned. Dominique opened her mouth, hesitated, and shut it. It had always been a law of theirs that if one of them dared the other to do something, they _had _to do it.

"Fine,"

* * *

When she walked into the Great Hall without a stitch of clothing on, she wished she'd said no.

Apart from when Lysander gave her her first kiss.


End file.
